


This Thrilling Day

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Adventure, Attempted robbery, Fluff, Gen, Humor, No editing we die like mne, basically home alone but with Damian and Jon, thieves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: While on vacation with their dads Damian and Jon are left alone to fend off some wanna be thieves. Chaos ensues
Relationships: Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne
Comments: 9
Kudos: 193





	This Thrilling Day

**Author's Note:**

> The best way to go into the new year is with a couple of Super Sons and some antics. Enjoy this little adventure I speed wrote to fit one last fic into 2019

Damian sat arms crossed, eyebrows knit together, legs hooked around the chair rung as he glared over the table at his companions. “If it would help, I would be happy to list all of the things we could be doing that are more productive than this. Beginning with a certain training exercise we were pulled from for this ‘trip’.”

Next to him, Jon rolled his eyes, prompting a glare from Damian. Really, he’d hoped his friend would be on his side, but perhaps Jon was less serious about training than he had imagined. 

Jon shot him a grin in response, “I don’t know, Damian. We can train anytime, but this? This is once in a lifetime.” 

From across the table Father coughed into his hand, an almost hidden smile pressed behind his fist. It was not subtle in the least, and yet both Jon and his dad were convinced this “Paid trip for four to the great snowy mountains of Colorado” had been sheer luck on Kent’s part. A trip won through sweepstakes. Ha! As if Richard or perhaps Pennyworth had not set this whole thing up ahead of time to force them into taking a break. He would not put it past the duo working together to create this vacation trap. 

Damian had been against this ‘vacation’ from the start. Winter break should be spent training and getting out on patrol more often than he was allowed while school was in session. He hated being stuck patrolling only on weekends and the odd weeknight when he could convince his father to allow him to help. 

“We’re here to relax, Damian, patience can be its own training.” Father said, sounding as if he did not believe his own words at all. 

He was seated next to Kent, absently playing a game of checkers with the man. His attention was half on the game, half on the rest of the room. Even here, Father could not seem to relax. His eyes too often on doors, shoulders tight, jaw in need of reminding against being clenched. All the more reason for them to just go home and get back to their normal lives. 

Kent cleared his throat and looked at Father with a half smile, “Can it now?” 

Father scoffed and sat back, shoving one of his black checkers forward on the board, “I wasn’t lecturing you.” 

Jon snickered and Damian couldn’t hold back a chuckle of his own. At looks from the group he snapped his mouth closed and did his best to look like he wasn’t having any fun at all. He uncrossed his arms before standing. 

“I am going to grab a snack.” 

Damian left the group and moved across the large lounge area, picking his way past smooth wooden tables and overly large furniture covered in huge pillows and throws, to the rather slim snack bar at the end of the room. On it sat coffee pots, labeled with flavors, a tea kettle full of hot water, assorted tea bags, and fresh fruit. 

He poured a mug of tea while Father and Kent started talking again behind him, voices low as they began to discuss-- Damian couldn’t quite make it out. Whatever it was, they’d dropped their voices immediately. Not that it would do any good against Jon’s hearing, but it would hurt Damian’s listening in. 

Deciding to ignore it, he finished making his tea, a pomegranate flavored green, and snatched up two clementines to carry back with him. The men’s conversation seemed to have wrapped up by the time he got back. As Damian sat down, both Father and Kent stood. 

“We have to leave for a bit.” Kent said, tone apologetic. 

“What?” Damian asked, looking between the two, “Why?” 

Father grimaced, like he knew what would happen following his explanation, “League business. They need us for an emergency meeting. We’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

Damian stood so fast he rattled the table, spilling some of his tea onto the wood, “What happened to vacation and taking a break?” 

Kent and Father exchanged a knowing glance. 

“We’ll get right back to it. Really, this won’t take too long. We may even be back by tonight.” Kent explained. 

Damian huffed, “You will do well to return in a reasonable amount of time. If I must miss out on the fun, then you cannot have too much of it.” 

A startled laugh burst from Kent’s lips, “He really is your kid.” he said, slapping Father on the back, “Alright, Damian, we’ll be quick as we can.” 

“Do not get into trouble while we are away.” Father said, his tone speaking clearly what ‘trouble’ meant: _Don’t fight crime or patrol, or even dare to don a mask._

Not even half an hour later Damian thought he might grow so bored he’d just die right here in this most boring of cabin themed inns. 

Jon was crouched over on the chair next to Damian at the table picking at one of the clementines Damian had brought over, dropping the peel pieces onto the wood surface. 

“Is there nothing to do here?” Damian complained, feeling a bit like Richard during one of his dramatic moods. 

“Plenty.” Jon said, “Even some interesting stuff to do, and as long as we don’t break the inn before our dads come back we should be fine.” He frowned down at the orange, the peel kept chipping off instead of coming off in a clean line.

“Tt.” Damian said. “Let me see that.” He reached a hand out to Jon for the orange and after a moment the other boy handed it over.

Damian pulled a small knife from his pocket and used it to peel the orange in a clean ribbon. “There, that took half the time.” He said dropping back into Jon’s hand.

“Thanks.” Jon smiled at him before halving the orange and offering part to Damian. “Want some?”

Damian knew what it was; a peace offering. An attempt by Jon to stave off Damian’s own tendency to cause trouble when he did not have enough to keep him busy while Jon thought of something that might appeal to them both. Damian considered ignoring it and leaving to explore or _something_ However, the orange looked delicious and Damian was a fan of the sweet fruit. He nodded and took the offered half as Jon started separating his into segments. Damian bit into his whole and Jon grinned.

The sweet taste of the orange was made sour by Damian’s sudden suspicion. He swallowed the bite he’d taken and glared. “What?” He demanded setting the orange down. 

Jon’s grin spread into a giggle that he tried for a moment to suppress before it exploded into a laugh. Damian fidgeted in his seat, self-conscious and angry at himself for feeling that way. He wanted to brush his chin and check for juice, because what else would Jon be laughing at? Unless it was simply a ploy to make him feel uncomfortable.

“What?” he asked again at last finding a napkin to wipe his face with.

Jon attempted to still his laughing by eating an orange slice, popping it into his mouth to chew. When his mirth had calmed he said. “The way you bit into that orange. I’ve never seen it done that way before. Then you got flustered and I laughed and I’m sorry.” He was still grinning as he said it.

“If you are insinuating that the way I eat oranges is wrong, Jon, I’ll have you know—”

“I’m not. It’s just weird that’s all.” Jon said then seemed to realize he’d said the opposite a moment before a bit into orange slice bounced off his forehead. Damian wasn’t sure what had made him throw the slice. It had been an impulse. Probably one learned from Grayson or Todd. Both would be petty enough to start a food fight.

“Damian.” Jon didn’t get to finish his statement as another slice hit him in the face. Damian grinned, there was something satisfying in the act of throwing food. It wasn’t a dangerous projectile, neither would it do any real harm psychologically, but it felt good. Like payback. 

Jon seemed to come to himself and swatted at the third one aimed at him. The orange slice flew through the air with a force neither of them had expected and pinged off one of the pictures hanging in the room before landing somewhere on the floor out of sight.

The picture swung back and forth a few times, Jon’s eyes widening at it with every arc. The boys flinched as the picture slipped from the nail it rested on and went crashing to the ground. Both scrambled up from their chairs to examine it.

Jon was there first lifting the frame gingerly. “Well? Is it broken?” Damian asked scrutinizing the black backing on the picture.

He frowned and let the picture drop back to the ground. “Yes.” He gulped. “Dad’s going to kill me. We’re going to have to replace it.”

“At least it wasn’t the egg.” Damian’s eyes glanced across the lounge, and towards the staircase at the end of the entrance hall. At the very top of it rested a stand where the inn’s owner, Mrs. Degan, kept her family heirloom on display. 

She’d wasted fifteen of Damian’s minutes when they’d arrived describing the Fabergé egg’s worth and its history with her family to him and Jon. Jon had been fascinated, Damian had feigned indifference. He’d learned of Fabergé’s while with Mother, even if he had never seen one before. The egg was beautiful, and worth as much, if not more, than Mrs. Degan had described but he hadn’t wanted Jon to know how interested in it he was.

“Father can take care of it when he returns.” Damian said as if he were trying to convince himself his father would be willing to replace the broken frame. Even if it was inexpensive Father would be upset with them for breaking something already. He’d made it clear when they’d come to the inn that Damian and Jon were to be on their best behaviors or face the consequences. This was not best behavior.

“Perhaps we should move to another room. Outside even. There we have little chance of breaking anything else.” Damian suggested.

“Outside is a good idea.” Jon said standing. “I think I remember seeing a huge chess set out there.”

Damian wasn’t sure what the purpose of a giant chess set was, but they did locate one outside the inn. Jon mentioned something about them being popular at vacation resorts, and once they started to play Damian could understand why. The pieces weren’t heavy but light and made of a thick plastic. It would take them longer than normal to play one game, but Damian wasn’t worried about that. If anything it would help kill time before their fathers returned.

Jon was better at chess than Damian had guessed, and there was an added difficulty to the game made by not being able to see the board from above that had him smiling halfway through. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was starting to enjoy himself.

Just as he went to move one of his knights he spotted two men walking up the pathway to the inn. Their walk was casual as they moved, dragging rolling suitcases behind them. Damian would have brushed them off as normal on any given day, except today. Not wanting anyone to intrude on their vacation Father had decided to rend out the rest of the inn for the week. He’d claimed a number of reasons beyond privacy, like the freedom to speak of their night lives, and the possibility of another one of Jon’s power’s manifesting. Damian thought Father’s reasons were simply because he preferred the quiet. 

Because of this there was a sign out on the road that announced the inn had no vacancies. It should have swayed anyone before they even made it as far as these two men had. Which made their appearance all the more suspicious. 

“Damian, what’s wrong?” Jon asked turning his attention onto the two men. He frowned and turned back to Damian. “Did your dad mention anything about workers coming today?”

Damian shook his head. “No one is scheduled to come here until after we’ve left. Even Degan is out today. Can you see what’s in their bags?”

Jon frowned. “I’m not supposed to use my powers while on vacation.”

“So you would let two possible thieves break into our temporary home then?” Damian challenged.

The other boy sighed and squinted at the bags, after a moment his eyes widened in surprise. “One is filled with some kind of padding, the other has strange tools in it. Some kind of blade and lock picks.”

Jon turned to him, eyes wide, “I think they’re here to steal Mrs. Degan’s egg.”

“Of course they are. They’re too prepared to try for just the cash, and the egg is well known. As is the fact that the inn is lightly occupied right now.” Damian said with a roll of his eyes, “They were probably on a stakeout, waiting for the inn to be unoccupied and saw both Degan and Father’s car leave.” 

“We should stop them.” Jon said taking a step forward, but Damian grabbed his arm and pulled him back. 

“What was that for?” Jon’s voice had risen slightly in irritation.

Damian put a finger over his lips and smiled behind it. “Do you recall the film our fathers made us watch the other day?”

Jon frowned. “Home Alone?” 

Damian nodded, half his attention still on the men. They’d reached the front door to find it locked and were now discussing the fact that the building was empty. Damian’s guess had been right, they’d seen Bruce and Clark leave and they thought no one was left inside.

“It would be too easy for us to catch them, and we have a lot of time before our fathers return. What do you think about a game?” Damian asked with a smirk.

“We were just playing…oh.” Jon smiled at him. “I see what you mean. We don’t have a lot of time though.”

“Tt. We have enough time to delay them, and you have super speed.” Damian told him.

They had to be quick. Damian had Jon fly his father’s car from the back of the building a ways down the road and then he drove up it, as if nothing was wrong at all. The sound of a car returning was enough to spook the men into skittering away, back to their own car and down the driveway. It wouldn’t keep them gone for long, and Damian didn’t need it to. If they were desperate enough to get the egg, they’d probably make another attempt that day, even if Damian didn’t tempt them back by driving away again. 

The next thing he did was block all the doors and windows beyond the entrance they wanted the men to be able to enter through. The back door was the only one they left without a chair block. It was still locked, but the ease of opening it should be enough to convince them to use the door.

Damian had Jon keep watch for them to return through the walls. The plan was simple. They would set up a number of various traps to continuously discourage the two men, before ticking them in time for the police to arrive. Unlike in the movie, Damian wished to inform the police as soon as possible. 

Even with some time before the men returned, the boys worked fast on the rest of their traps. Damian had experience setting up various traps both as a bat and in pranking his brothers, and he found a certain joy in the task as he dug through the inn to collect supplies. He couldn’t hide a grin from his face as he imagined recreating scenes from the movie. 

Damian’s grin widened when Jon came running in carrying two paint cans, “Perfect,” he said, “Add them to the other supplies.” 

When they were done gathering items to make traps, Damian and Jon stood over a surprisingly large pile of what could be considered junk. Ropes, cans, an electric tea kettle, and all sorts of knick nacks. Some of which had come from Jon’s own luggage, like marbles and a number of action figures. 

“The question now, is do we recreate the whole movie or put our own spin on it?” Jon asked. 

Damian crossed his arms, examining their supplies, “The building is not the same as Kevin’s. We have a staircase, but it is wide and traps there will be obvious. No, we will have to come up with many of our own ideas.” 

“But we can totally do tar at the back door?” Jon asked. 

Damian chuckled, “Yes, we can do tar at the back door.” 

Together they marked up a copy of the building’s blueprints with their plan. Starting from the back door leading all the way up to where the egg was normally displayed they would lay their traps. It wasn’t a straight shot, so they planned to set up traps in the kitchen, hallways, and the sitting area they’d been in before, and even put a trip wire on the front door for when they would eventually run out it, setting the men up to fall out in front of police. 

As for the egg, Damian had moved it, of course, hiding it in their room under a loose floorboard he’d found the first night they were there. In its place he put a real egg, hidden under a black cloth and a Gotcha sign drawn by it. Damian let Jon make the sign, and the boy added his own flair, scribbling out a winking face and finger guns to accompany the word. Jon thought it was hilarious, Damian refused to comment. He did find it amusing, he just didn’t want to give Jon the satisfaction of knowing that.

Even with all their haste, they finished moments before the sound of a car coming up the driveway announced the return of the two men. Damian and Jon shoved a chair under the doorknob before they crouched by the front door and waited. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang, and then the knob jiggled. Damian listened for noise, but Jon was the one to raise his eyebrows and grin after a moment. 

“They think it’s empty and the car was a false alarm.” he whispered, “They’re going to try to get in.” 

Damian and Jon followed their progress as the men tried various side doors, and at last ended up at the back door. There was a moment of fiddling and raised voices before the door creaked open, a pair of arguing voices preceding the men. 

“I told you, it’s too much trouble. We’ve already wasted too much time. It’ll be better to come back tomorrow.”

And the second voice, deeper than the first, “I haven’t trudged around this building for nothing. We’re getting that egg and we’re getting it oomph!”

From their perch in the in the rafters Jon clamped a hand over his mouth as the man walked right into a long sheet of saran wrap they’d stretched a foot or so from the door. The man fumbled stepping back, before kicking forward, his foot catching the plastic for a moment before the tape they’d used to stick it to the ceiling broke.

It tumbled down, wrapping awkwardly around the man’s foot as he stepped back down. He stumbled forward one, then two, steps, right into the tar Jon had carefully painted on the floor. With a crash he went tumbling down. 

The next moment the man with the higher voice stepped inside, dragging his bag behind him with a thunk. He stopped, slack jawed, “Harrison, what happened? You trip over some bag left on the floor or something?” 

“No.” The man’s voice sounded furious, “Some idiot put plastic wrap in the entrance.”

“What?” this was a coughed laugh, as the man slapped a hand to his face.

Damian pressed his lips together and grinned. Really this was too fun, he could see how the Kevin boy did this type of thing twice. Making trouble for would be thieves was the most entertaining way to pass the time. 

He glanced over at Jon as the men below him started arguing again, about brats and vacationers who made messes, and thought they were ‘so funny’. Jon had both hands pressed over his mouth, his eyes crinkled in delight. 

He caught Damian’s eye and nodded, there wasn’t much left in this room, only another door to get through. It was time for the two of them to get moving, and keep ahead of the bad guys. They’d already practiced moving silently from this room to the other through the vents, and one after the other they climbed up, and crawled through. 

The rest of the inn was fairly interconnected, so once they made it out to the other side Damian and Jon dropped to the floor. Two more sets of traps and Damian could call the police, then it was just up to them to distract the men before leading them right out front. 

Damian and Jon split up, Damian taking the kitchen to the left of the hall to turn on the stove burners and unscrew the lightbulb in the ceiling before he resumed his crouch by one of the doors, peering out into the hall to watch the door. 

Across from him, and slightly to the left, he spotted Jon doing the same, presumably having finished setting up the rest of the traps in the hall. He gave Damian a thumbs up before the door burst open, a foot sticking slightly to it for a moment before popping off. 

“What an utter mess back there.” The higher voiced man said, “You’d think they’d take better care of things, especially with a guest like Wayne staying here.”

Harrison grunted, “Let’s just get on with it.” 

“Hey, speaking of Wayne, why don’t we make a detour? I bet he’s got some good stuff too, and it never hurts to stock up. If we can’t sell the egg right--”

“Shut up.” Harrison’s hand flew out as he stopped, stopping his companion.

“What? More plastic wrap?” there was a sneer to the man’s voice now. 

Harrison spun on him and flicked his head, “There’s something wrong here. I don’t think Degan’s just a mess, there’s something fishy, and we need to be careful.” 

“What like a trap?” the first man scoffed, “Who’d be here to trap us? Or even know about us coming?” 

All their talking was getting boring, and Damian wished they’d just move already. A few steps forward or over into the kitchen and they’d hit the next set of traps. If only they’d just move already. He considered making a noise to prompt them moving again, but then they seemed to come to a decision. 

“You’re being paranoid, Harrison. Let’s go, I want time to go through Wayne’s stuff.” 

The man pushed past his partner and further into the hall. They moved a few feet unbothered, before the first man slipped, hands flying out to the sides as he stepped on Jon’s marbles. He grabbed Harrison, who at that moment also stepped in marbles and both went down, arms spinning out and shouting together. 

As a trap it was minimal, but they weren’t looking to do real damage, or discourage the men enough to make them leave. The plan hadn’t even been to make it seem like these traps were traps at all, only messes left by guests and forgotten things left on. Carelessness and a series of increasingly painful events. 

Jon snickered, then froze, eyes going wide. Damian’s own breath caught in his throat as both boys looked to the men. Damian prayed Jon’s noise had been drowned out by the clatter and yell of the robbers, but no such luck was granted to them. 

Eyes immediately caught onto both boy’s and the two men scrambled to their feet, Harrison roaring. 

“I told you! I told you there was something wrong!” 

“What do you two think you’re doing?” the other asked, “Playing at being heroes?” 

_If only they knew_ , Damian thought. He stood from his crouch, shoulders back, chin raised in defiance. He’d have to make his 911 call a lot sooner than expected. 

“We won’t let you get what you’ve come for.” he said. 

Harrison raised an eyebrow, “Oh and what’s that?” 

“The egg.” Jon said, standing as well, “You’d better just leave, or, or--” he did an excellent job feigning fear. Damian’s acting classes he’d put Jon through seemed to be paying off. 

His falsified fear seemed to give bravery to the two men. 

“Or nothing, I think. You two just stand still and we’ll make sure you’re in once piece for when your daddies get back.” Harrison said. 

To that, Damian bolted across the hall to be with Jon, and both disappeared into the lounge. The theives would have to follow them in either way, since the only unlocked and unbarred path to the egg was through there. 

While they ran, Damian slipped his phone from his pocket and dialed the police. As it rang through he heard the crash of footsteps behind him. 

“Distract them!” he hissed at Jon as a woman’s voice picked up on the other end of the line. Damian ducked behind one of the couches and as quietly as he could explained the situation. In the room, Jon stood confidently in the center, remotes for his controlled cars in each of his palms. 

“There’s one!” Harrison said. 

“Where’s your friend? Has he run off and left you?” the other taunted. 

“What’s it matter to you guys? You won’t win.” 

The sound of a small engine and squeaky tires buzzed into the room. Damian rattled off their address and ignored the woman’s request for him to stay on the line, clicking off his phone before poking his head up and over the side of the couch. 

Chaos had ensued while he hadn’t been looking. Jon was cackling as his car carrying streaming lines of rope spun round and round the men, tangling them in rope as they drove. 

Damian stood, and grabbed Jon’s arm, “Come on, we gotta keep going.” 

It was a merry chase through the rest of the inn as they dumped pails of freezing water on the men, slammed doors on their hands, and tripped them so many times Damian thought they’d have caught onto the gag by now. 

They made their stand at the top of the stairs. Both standing in the way to protect the fake egg. By this point the two men were black and blue with blooming bruises. Red welts covered their faces, and one’s hair had been slightly singed by a too close brush with a lighter. It was nothing compared with the damage done in the movie they were imitating, but it had been highly entertaining. 

Damian hadn’t expected the guns. In all Jon’s looking he hadn’t reported any firearms, so when both stopped halfway up the stairs and aimed up, unwilling to move any further, Damian was at a loss for what to do next. They couldn’t get shot. Jon could, but that would give away who he was. And Damian couldn’t because he was not wearing any armor. 

“Enough of all this.” Harrison demanded, “Bring the egg down here and stop this chase.” 

Jon tensed beside Damian, seemingly ready to throw away his secret to protect his friend. Damian appreciated it, but there were other ways. He held his hand out to Jon and shook his head. Eyes flicking towards the smooth wooden rails on either side of the staircase. 

His friend seemed to catch his meaning by relaxing his stance, “Alright.” he said, “We’ll bring it down, just don’t shoot okay?” 

Harrison waved his gun, “Get moving.” 

Damian turned and eased the egg off it’s stand, keeping the black fabric wrapped over it. He moved back to the edge of the staircase and held it up, “It’s right here.” he said, “If you really want it, then catch!” he yelled before chunking it down the staircase at the men. 

Together, he and Jon made for either rail, jumping upon it to slide down either side. They sped past both men as they were a flurry chasing after the egg. Damian heard a splat and could not help but laugh hysterically as he hopped off the end. 

Both he and Jon stopped to turn back to look at the men. Behind them the front door rested, and their own safety outside it. But the plan wasn’t to leave the men inside to continue searching for the egg, it was to lead them outside. 

“Want the real one?” Damian yelled, “Then you’d better catch us!” 

He caught their attention with that, Jon tense and ready to run next to him. Harrison did another thing Damian did not expect, then. Instead of continuing the chase, he simply aimed his gun at them and fired. 

Damian didn’t have time to dodge. He braced himself, and squeezed his eyes shut without knowing it. When there was no pain, he opened his eyes. Jon stood in front of him. He'd blocked the bullet, protecting Damian from harm by using his powers. 

“Jon.” Damian hissed, “You didn’t.” 

His friend turned back and grinned at him, “It's fine.” he winked at Damian and added, louder, "He missed!" 

“What the!” the unnamed man yelled. 

Jon pulled the egg out of his pocket and shook it at the men, “Try again losers!” 

Damian didn't have time to berate him for moving the real egg from it's hiding spot, or praise him for the excellent distraction. Jon had already grabbed his arm. Together they bolted out of the room, throwing the door open, and leaping out. Damian could hear the men chasing them again. They came to a sliding stop outside, as lights flashed on a number of patrol cars. 

“There! Chasing us!” Jon yelled, pointing back towards the door. 

As he said it, their pursuers stumbled out of the door, tripping and falling one last time on their faces. 

Both Damian and Jon got a hearty laugh out of that. 

It took some work, convincing, and a call to Grayson to get the police to leave Damian and Jon at the inn, but once they were on their own again they hurried to finish cleaning. Night was nearing at this point, and if their fathers kept their word they’d be back soon. 

Again, they managed things in the knick of time, collapsing back into overly large couches in the lounge as the front door opened again, and footsteps waltzed in, unmolested. 

“Boys?” Kent’s voice echoed, “We brought pizza.”

The idea of pizza after their day was a good one, and both boys lept at the chance to help bring in the pizza and set it out. Once things were ready they all found themselves back at the table they’d vacated hours earlier, seated in much the same way they'd been. 

“So, did you two have fun while we were away?” Kent asked.  
  
“You didn’t get into too much trouble did you?” Father added. 

Damian and Jon looked at each other, “We broke a picture frame on accident.” Jon said. 

“But otherwise, it was fairly boring.” Damian finished, “What about you two, how was the meeting?” 

Father seemed to see something in Jon and Damian’s faces, but chose to let it slide, as he picked up a slice of pizza and let Kent describe the meeting in detail. They’d have to explain their adventure come the next day, but for now, Damian and Jon settled in to listen to their dads and enjoy their own private victory. 


End file.
